Mike Fichter's blog

Sometimes distractions are minor. Insignificant. Not worth discussing.

But distractions can become expensive in a hurry. Especially when it comes to ministry. When it comes to the life movement, distractions are those things that pull us away from our core focus of why we even exist.

Distractions can be politcal. They can be financial. They can be relational. Then can even be found in really good stuff. But most of all they can be really, really expensive.

What does it cost us? Opportunities to help a college freshman to choose adoption instead of abortion. Opportunities to help someone hurting after an abortion to find healing in the arms of Christ. Opportunities to know that today, a child’s life was shielded from a painful end.

Are you dealing with distractions today? Consider the cost. Then make the change.

Three weeks ago I learned how God can use five minutes, a busy intersection, a city bus and a lavender coat to completely turn our world upside down.

It all began in a most unremarkable way on a Wednesday afternoon on a primary city corridor. The day was dreary, a few snow flurries found their way here and there to the ground, and for the most part it was business as usual.

From over a block away I watched as the brakes of a city bus lit up and drivers ahead of me instinctively swerved to the left lane. I didn’t give it much thought, or at least only enough to guess that by the time I got to the intersection the bus would be on its way again.

As drivers behind me followed the migration to the left, I wondered why people always seem so impatient. Slowly pulling up to the bus, then stopping completely, I waited the obligatory minute for both of us to be on our way.

The bus didn’t move. Not one bit. Its brake lights kept flashing. The stop light at the intersection changed to green. A stream of cars zipped by to my left and my stress level did a quick spike. Not yet ready to abandon my faith in the bus, I opted to wait it out for another few seconds. I knew this bus would move now.

The stop light cycled through again. The bus lights continued to flash. My patience betrayed me. Now I became consumed with two thoughts: edging my way into the left lane without getting hit, and wondering what this bus driver’s problem was. Maybe he was wasting company time while talking to friends. Maybe there was a mechanical problem. Maybe, just maybe, he was making a point to the guy behind him trying to get around.

Finding the slightest of openings, I jerked the steering wheel left and found just enough room to squeeze next to the bus as the light turned red again.

It was then that I saw the little girl in the lavender coat, strapped down tightly to her special needs wheelchair, as she and her family made their way across the busy street. To my right the bus raised up from the lowered position it assumes to allow wheelchair access. In front of me the light turned green.

It was then that it all became clear to me how God can use times of our greatest impatience to teach us our greatest lessons about things like compassion, mercy, and grace.

And that’s exactly the way that God can use five minutes, a busy intersection, a city bus and a lavender coat to completely turn our thinking upside down